


First Christmas

by damibirb



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Christmas, Holidays, M/M, New Relationship, Slice of Life, damjion secret santa, this is tooth-rotting fluff okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damibirb/pseuds/damibirb
Summary: Damian and Jon spend their first Christmas together as a couple. Decorations, cookie-making, and presents ensue!-This is for the DamiJon Secret Santa! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to my giftee, pxheart/Vivi!
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	First Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this! I hope it warms your heart with all the fluffy feelings! Happy Holidays to my giftee, Vivi! I hope you enjoy!! <3

Damian stared with some disdain at his kitchen cabinets. He clutched a mug of hot green tea in his hand as he assessed the sight that he was affronted with, so early in the morning.

There were hundreds of multi-colored, sparkling Christmas lights strung along the top of the cabinets.

They definitely weren’t the only decorations in his high-rise Gotham apartment. His boyfriend had made sure of that.

Their tree was a live one, blinking in the living room that he shared with Jon. Tinsel and garland covered it and just about every other surface Damian turned to look at.

Lights were strung everywhere. Along the windows, around the walls of each room, and now…

“Jonathan,” Damian spoke tiredly, his voice a little craggily from sleep still.

“Yeah?” His boyfriend hummed cheerily from the stove, where he was making Ma Kent’s famous buttermilk pancakes. Damian had chosen not to say anything about the chocolate chip bag open on the counter, and certainly not anything about the fact that he kept catching Jon sneak handfuls of the chocolate morsels.

“Our kitchen is… festive.” It was a nice enough way of saying that Damian had not at all been expecting this development.

Honestly, he’d thought they were done with decorations. Little snow globes and happy snowman plushies sat around the place. A little candy dish shaped like a Christmas tree found its home on their high-top counter.

And the lights. Allah help him, the lights.

Jon only answered when he turned the burner off and plated the last of the pancakes on a plate. The half-Kryptonian smiled sheepishly, a light dusting of pink brushing over his pale, freckled cheeks.

“What? I found some extra strings that we didn’t use and I thought they looked nice… too much?” Jon bit at his bottom lip to stifle his nervous smile, pushing a plate of fresh pancakes Damian’s way as if to distract him from the fact that their apartment looks like Christmas elves threw up everywhere.

Damian thought his response over carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was upset his partner.

Jon loved this time of year. He was definitely one of those people that started listening to Christmas songs early, wore embarrassing sweaters, and apparently, went all out with decorations.

However, this was their first Christmas as a couple and Damian was trying. Even though he really didn’t understand it, despite having years of experience of the holiday at Wayne manor.

“It looks… luminous.” Damian grabbed for the plate and settled into one of the black leather bar seats that they had lined along their high-top counter.

Jon rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing quickly at the lights and then back to his boyfriend.

“Ah, shoot. I can take them down if it’s too much?” And there was a nervous tinge to Jon’s voice that immediately made Damian think over his words again and hastily backpedal.

“No, no. They’re fine. I would expect nothing less from your special brand of decorating skills,” Damian said with a sly smile, a teasing glint in his moss green eyes that signaled that he was just joking. He took a bite of his pancakes, the corners of his mouth tilting up into a slight smile.

Jon huffed, a brighter smile growing on his face, the pink in his cheeks darkening some.

“Very funny.”

He wandered around the counter and settled next to Damian comfortably. He was still wearing his pajamas. Loosely fit plaid sweats. Red and green striped fuzzy socks. He’d accepted Jon’s lack of fashion sense long ago.

A few moments passed between them as they shuffled for the syrup and took the first few glorious bites of a home-cooked breakfast. Damian only startled a little when he felt Jon’s hand rest softly on top of his on their counter.

Damian had to hide his smile in his mug as he took a sip of his tea and shifted their hands around so he could lace their fingers together.

“Dork,” he admonished softly, but there was an incredibly clear fondness to his tone.

Their relationship was new and exciting, and Damian had so much bright hope for their future.

When Jon had gotten accepted into Gotham University last year, he and Damian had decided to move in together. Damian had been more than ready to leave Wayne Manor and start on his own.

It was only recently, a couple of months ago, that soft admissions had been made. A tentative first kiss had been shared right in front of those floor-to-ceiling living room windows that looked out onto a glittering Gotham skyline.

And it was because their relationship was so new that Damian was trying his absolute best to make Christmas a special time for Jon, knowing how much the other man cherished this holiday spirit.

Even after all of these years, Damian struggled with understanding such occasions. Socialization and expected behaviors and tasks did not come easily to him.

What did come easily to him, however, was solving cases.

And what else was Christmas than a case to solve involving blinking, blinding lights and anxieties about the perfect gift?

As they finished up their breakfast, Jon leaned to smack a sticky kiss to the top of Damian’s hand before he let go. He grabbed the plates and plopped them in the sink for later as Damian made an effort to slyly wipe away the syrup now on his hand.

“Okay, lazy Christmas Eve!” Jon sing-sang. “I vote for a Christmas movie marathon, take-out, and sugar cookie decorating.” His expectant, blue gaze fell to Damian. That grin was so megawatt bright; Damian almost didn’t even notice the lights anymore.

He nodded, brows cinching just a bit. He’d never been good at lazing around, always preferring to stay active with training or some mind exercise. Drawing and playing musical instruments and honing his skills was as close as he got to being lazy, on most days.

Task number 1: Operation lazy couch cuddles. Hot beverages and blankets recommended as tools.

“Don’t forget about patrol. We’re on the roster tonight. Father promised us tomorrow off, though,” Damian reminded him, which wasn’t really conducive to his current task, but he didn’t want Jon to forget.

The little groan that slipped from Jon’s lips in response was somehow adorably whiney and Damian took a moment to wonder if his mother was right about being wrapped around this alien’s pinky finger.

“Okay, okay. But first, A Christmas Story. And Elf. And The Grinch.” Jon busied himself in the kitchen for a moment before stepping toward the coach with a steaming mug of hot chocolate in his hands.

Damian followed with his own tea and when Jon settled into his usual seat on the left cushion, Damian quickly decided to sit closer to the middle instead of taking his usual place on the right.

Jon gave him a surprised yet happy look when Damian sidled up to him, legs curling up on the cushion to get more comfortable. He leaned against Jon’s heat, trying his best to look impassive.

If that ever-present grin on Jon’s face was anything to go by, Damian wasn’t fooling anyone.

The super grabbed for the remote and pulled up the first movie. A Christmas Story. He knew it was one of Jon’s favorites, something about family tradition, watching it every year.

Damian grappled for a blanket as the opening scene started and draped it over himself, careful of his tea. Jon always ran hot, so he never concerned himself with sharing.

He felt Jon’s solid, lithe arm wrap around his shoulders, tugging him in closer. Damian couldn’t help the happy hum that slipped from his throat, and he hid the darkening of his cheeks by lifting his teacup again.

At some point during the third movie, Damian found himself lounging out on top of Jon, head resting on his boyfriend’s chest. Their legs were tangled together in a mess of limbs, the blanket crumpled around them, and Jon had a protective, soft hand on the small of Damian’s back.

He pressed his ear to Jon’s chest as he shifted and stared at the television screen. He wasn’t really paying attention to what was going on. He was more focused on the soft thump-thump of Jon’s heartbeat.

Before he knew it, his eyes were starting to droop. Sleeping wasn’t ever easy for him. It made him feel incredibly vulnerable, but he felt a unique type of safety in the arms of his partner. A trust that could never be broken.

Right before he slipped into unconsciousness, he heard Jon’s contented sigh. His soft I love you spoken into the air.

Damian wasn’t sure if he managed to mutter it back before he fell asleep, but he would consider Task number 1 a success, nonetheless.

****************************************************************************************************

He woke to Jon gently shaking him awake. A quick glance outside their windows showed him it was midday now. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a nap so early.

“Dames, if I let you sleep any longer, you’re gonna kill me later,” Jon’s voice spoke up softly.

Damian breathed in deeply and it turned into a yawn as he stretched and felt some joints pop. Should his bones be cracking as much as they did? He was only twenty-two after all.

His thoughts were interrupted by feeling Jon kiss the top of his head. He hid a small smile in the fabric of Jon’s pajama shirt.

“We should bake those cookies. I got all the stuff for them! Food coloring, a bunch of sprinkles. Okay… maybe I overdid on the sprinkles? But there were so many colors,” Jon’s rambling woke Damian up even more, a gentle return to his perfect bubble of the world.

“Hmm,” Damian answered him, reaching up sleepily and carding his fingers through Jon’s ink-dark curls.

“Oh! Babe, that reminds me. I know we said only one gift, but I got you a second one. Kind of a silly thing really, but I’m gonna give it to you early,” Jon continued brightly.

Damian froze slightly at that, a frown pulling at his full lips.

He finally sat up, shifting to a sitting position on the opposite end of the couch while Jon clamored up, floating a little off the ground in his excitement.

Gifts.

Damian had really worked himself up with anxieties about that. They had agreed to one gift for each of them, to alleviate that. Still, Damian had fretted trying to decide on the perfect thing. He’d called Clark, Lois, Grayson, Colin, Kathy.

He thinks what he’d decided on was a good idea. He’d gotten the stamp of approval from all of them, anyway.

He’s careened from his internal thoughts when Jon goes to their coat closet of all things. So that’s where he’d hidden this mysterious early gift.

What he pulls out makes Damian think he’s still sleeping.

It’s atrocious. A black apron with a bat symbol on the chest. Below it, in stark white lettering it proclaims:

Kiss the Bat-Cook!

Jon’s fit of laughter filled the air and it was so damn infectious that Damian couldn’t help but smile too.

“Kent. What the hell is that monstrosity?” Damian asked, but his tone was full of mirth.

His boyfriend shrugged and walked closer to him, offering the apron with a sheepish smile.

“I just saw it and couldn’t help myself. Besides, you can use it now while we bake!” He looked excited about the prospect, so Damian reached out and took the proffered gift from Jon’s hands.

As soon as he slung it over his head and tied the back, Jon caught his lips in a soft kiss. They both smiled into it and Damian felt butterflies in his stomach when Jon pulled him closer by the waist.

“Hmm. You’re getting distracted,” Damian told him in a low voice.

“Just following the directions,” Jon answered him, poking at the abhorrently stupid lettering on the apron.

That made Damian roll his eyes and push Jon away playfully. Of course, Jon could have stayed right where he was with his super strength, but he takes a couple of steps back with a laugh like Damian’s push actually affected him.

“Didn’t you say something about cookies?”

Task number 2: Operation bake cookies and try not to burn them. Jon’s assistance required.

As much as Alfred had tried his best to instill some cooking skills into Damian, they just never stuck. Jon did almost all the cooking and baking in their apartment.

It wasn’t as if Damian was absolutely atrocious at it… but there was that one time that he’d tripped the fire alarm making Jon’s birthday cake.

So, he was all too willing to follow Jon’s lead when his excited boyfriend downright bounded into the kitchen. He grabbed for the sugar cookie recipe that he’d gotten from Clark, handed down from Ma, of course.

Damian diligently followed Jon’s directions, mixing together dry ingredients. This he could do. As long as an oven wasn’t involved. He’d leave that part to Jon.

When the dough was ready, mostly thanks to the electric mixer that Dick had gotten them as a housewarming gift, Jon spread flour over the countertop.

He offered the rolling pin to Damian with a grin and Damian looked at it like it was going to bite him before he slowly took it.

“Alright, just roll it out to a quarter inch thick, Dami.”

Damian stared at the lump of dough for a moment like it was one of Nigma’s riddles.

He started rolling, looking determined. He didn’t miss Jon’s soft coo and how his boyfriend stepped up behind him to wrap his arms around him, leaning his chin on Damian’s shoulder.

“See? You can bake afterall,” Jon snickered into his ear softly and Damian scoffed and turned around, smacking him against his own brightly colored apron with a flour-covered rolling pin.

Of course it did absolutely no damage to Jon’s steel skin. Just made a cloud of white poof on the cloth of Jon’s apron and into the air.

Jon made a noise of faux-shock and then laughed. “Oh that’s how this is gonna be, huh?” There was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes and Damian immediately regretted his actions.

“Jonathan, no--” Damian started to warn, but he was too late. Jon grabbed a little handful of flour from the counter and patted it right into the black material of his new apron.

“TT! You absolute child,” Damian scolded, trying to brush the flour away. But he was betrayed by the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Honestly, he never smiled more in his life than he did when he was around this man.

That thought made his heart flutter in his chest, his stomach doing acrobatic moves that even Grayson would be envious of. Love. It surged so brightly that he couldn’t stop himself from leaning up on his toes to capture Jon’s lips in a kiss again.

They finally managed to get back on task eventually. Choosing different holiday-themed cookie cutters to stamp into the dough. Trees, reindeers, stars, candy canes.

When they were done, Damian let Jon put the finished creations in the oven. They were both covered in flour; Damian even saw some in Jon’s hair and he reached up to brush it out when Jon closed the oven door safely.

The cookies didn’t take long to bake, so they used the time to clean up and toss their flour-covered clothes in the wash.

“I refuse to wear anything but pajamas today,” Jonathan had protested in the room while putting on another garish casual outfit. This one a matching set, printed with a bunch of presents and bows on the blue fabric. Truly atrocious.

When the cookies were done and cooled on cooling racks, it was back to the kitchen, much to the excitement of Jon.

Damian rolled his eyes with a smile when he was pulled by his hand back into the space and helped Jon make a bunch of different frosting colors from the food dye he’d gotten from the store.

This part Damian could do. His inner artist was screaming at him to a perfectionist, though.

Armed with a butter knife, Damian chose his first cookie and went to work. His tongue poked out just slightly when he started to get to the detailed stripes of the candy cane.

He hadn’t even realized he was doing it before Jon reached over with a bit of frosting on the tip of his finger and touched it to Damian’s tongue.

Damian’s nose scrunched as he smacked the frosting away with his lips, Jon laughing the entire time.

“Okay, first one done! What do ya think?” Jon exclaimed, holding up his Christmas tree cookie with pride.

It… definitely did not belong on the front cover of Better Homes and Gardens. The green frosting drooped in some places and what he assumed were meant to be multi-colored ornaments were depicted with big globs of frosting dotted all over it.

“It’s… it’s perfect, beloved,” Damian answered him truthfully. The fondness in his heart singing so brightly that he felt like it might overtake him.

Jon blushed and put his cookie carefully on the platter they’d designated for finished ones. Damian put his candy cane next to it, his looking much neater, but it didn’t really matter, he realized.

“I like when you call me that,” Jon admitted shyly as he picked up another cookie. “Beloved. It’s new… but it’s nice.”

Damian blinked a little and felt his own cheeks heat up. “Yes, well… I suppose I enjoy when you call me ‘babe’, even if it’s incredibly colloquial.”

“Hmm. You always use fancy words when you’re flustered,” Jon quipped softly before he not so subtly sucked a glob of frosting from his own knuckle where it had fallen off from his butter knife.

“Jonathan, that’s incredibly uncouth. Please, manners. What would Pennyworth say?” Damian deflected, his cheeks even darker red. The amount of blushing they do around each other these days is quite astronomical. Grayson called it their ‘honeymoon’ phase.

“He’d probably say something like--” Jon cleared his throat and then started speaking in the worst imitation of a posh British accent that Damian’s ever heard. “Young Master Kent, baking is an art of delicacy and propriety.”

“Idiot,” Damian answered, but the effect was ruined by a snorted laugh.

They continued to use the rest of the afternoon in companionable conversation, finishing their cookies and sneaking in bites. When they finished their last ones, Jon held up the cookie to Damian’s mouth with a grin.

He took a small bite, both of their eyes alight with that new feeling between them, and Damian internally, officially called Task 2 a success.

****************************************************************************************************

When the sky started to darken with twilight, warm oranges bleeding into the Gotham skyline, they finally had to wrap up their lazy day to go on a brief patrol.

Normally, suiting up felt all too easy, like a second skin. Damian had been Robin for so long now, he was wondering if he was seriously starting to outgrow the title. But something about it felt right. He’d made Robin into something of his own. He’d found himself and become the man he was today and he didn’t need another bird name and a new suit to do that.

He supposed Jon felt similarly about the Superboy title, despite very much not being a boy any longer.

Luckily, patrol was quick and easy. They did their rounds and for once, Gotham’s streets felt sleepy and peaceful. Honestly, Damian was expecting some sort of ruckus, although most of their big baddies were locked up safely for the moment.

Jon yawned from their spot on top of a building. Damian was surveying a few blocks known for particularly high crime rates, one last check to be sure.

“Babe, I think even the villains got the message today. We’ve been out here for three hours. Let’s call it a night,” Jon suggested hopefully.

Damian sighed and put down his binoculars after seeing nothing. Not even a stray cat to help off the streets.

“Fine.” He wasn’t going to argue too much. He pressed his finger to his ear piece. “Everything’s quiet on this side, we’re calling it a night,” he told whoever was on the other end. Babs or Bruce, probably.

He listened only for a moment to get that affirmation and approval before he turned coms off again and then turned to face Superboy, shoulders shifting in a relaxed way.

“Fly us home, hayseed,” Damian told him fondly, making a grin cross over Jon’s face as he took Damian into his arms and darted into the sky. Damian held on tight, smiling against Jon’s bicep.

They landed discreetly on their balcony. They were so high up that they didn’t worry about getting spotted. Besides, Damian had everything on lock down. No outside surveillance technology or drones could work near here.

After they slipped back inside, they stripped away their dirty costumes and took advantage of a steaming shower. There was a sense of relaxation and gentleness that Damian privately coveted.

As they dressed in their pajamas again, and really they went through too many outfits in one day, Damian spoke up lowly.

“I hope your holiday has been enjoyable, beloved.”

Jon turned to him as he shrugged his pajama shirt on again. “Of course it has been, Dames.”

Damian couldn’t quite look him in the eyes as he shrugged, feeling unsure.

“I’m not very good at all of this. Even still. I just hope I’ve… been doing this right.” He let out his insecurities, knowing that Jon would reassure him. And it took him a long damn time to even accept the fact that he could ask for conversations like this.

Jon wasted no time in stepping up to him, putting gentle hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Dames… you are perfect. Anything we do together would be perfect.” He laughed lightly and shrugged. “If anything, I’ve probably been too over the top with… y’know…” He trailed off and waved around the room.

Even their bedroom was covered in decorations. Lights strung up along the walls, garland and happy little decorations sitting on their surfaces, cluttering it up a bit more than Damian normally liked.

Damian softened as he saw it all and then saw Jon’s shy, nervous face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Your enthusiasm is endearing,” Damian consoled.

Immediately, Jon’s smile widened, his teeth gleaming and his expression sunlight-bright, which made Damian feel just as warm.

They finished up their night with take-out and another movie, lazing around and cuddling until they felt too tired to stay up.

They clamored to bed and wrapped up around each other, Damian pressing his face to Jon’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Damian allowed himself to whisper, the sentiment feeling a little strange on his tongue because he’d been so unused to saying it. It still felt right though, the truth of the statement always gave him a rush of positive emotion.

“I love you too, Dami,” Jon answered him with a gentle kiss on the top of his head. His hand stroked gently along Damian’s spine, right along that deep scar. It was like Jon’s touch replaced all the pain and fear with love and joy. Sometimes, it was a little overwhelming, but Damian didn’t want to let it go for anything.

Sleep overtook them both and they stayed wrapped up in each other through the night, only shifting awake when the morning’s light shined insistently into their bedroom.

Damian’s first thought of the morning was the warmth that radiated from Jon. He clung to him like a lifeline, not wanting to let go. Surprisingly, it was Jon that shifted away first and clamored out of bed.

Damian protested with a loud groan and he heard Jon’s answering chuckle.

“Sorry, Dames. I got a package arriving,” he said and the tone of his voice sounded… very suspicious.

That made Damian pop up a little, peering with tired eyes at Jon while he put on jeans and a shirt.

“A package?” Damian asked sleepily, sitting up in bed fully and letting the sheet pool around his waist. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with a little pout.

When he blinked his green eyes open further, he caught Jon staring at him with so much love, his chest gave a tight, constricting squeeze.

“Yep, I’ll only be a second. You can get your tea and I’ll be back up from the lobby before you can say ‘it’s a surprise’.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at him. “Jon… what did you do?”

His boyfriend just grinned and left their bedroom and Damian heard the soft click of their front door, which led to the private hallway and private elevator access of this building.

His boyfriend’s behavior was odd and Damian couldn’t quell the feeling that it had something to do with Christmas gifts.

The most important task of this holiday. One that he could not fail.

Task 3: Successfully give his new boyfriend and long-time best friend a meaningful gift.

With a huff, Damian forced himself out of bed. He brushed his teeth but refused to get dressed. His socked feet skidded to the kitchen to start his morning tea.

When the door clicked back open again, Damian had a mug of it steaming in his hands. And Jon… he was holding a very suspicious box with holes in it.

A box with holes in it that meowed.

“Shoot,” Jon laughed as he closed the door behind him. “I guess the… cat’s out of the bag.”

If Damian wasn’t so shocked, he would have been angry at that terrible pun. He shakily set his mug down, his eyes wide.

“Jon?” His voice sounded too small and he watched Jon carefully set the box down on their living room rug. He followed after him, his heart pounding.

Damian lifted the loose flaps of the box and inside sat a gray tabby. An adult cat with bright green eyes and beautiful tabby markings on her face.

He was definitely crying. Tears blinked down his cheeks as he stared in disbelief.

“I got her from a high-kill shelter. She’s been spayed, got her first checkup and shots already. The vet thinks she’s about four or five years old. Kathy and I got every pet in the shelter, too. She’s fostering some on the farm, found some homes for the others. But I figured you might like…” Jon looked a little nervous.

Damian reached out for her and gently picked her up. She purred instantly, rubbing at Damian’s face and meowing softly.

“She was such a sweetheart at the shelter. All purrs and loved being picked up. I figured she was perfect.” Jon was still waiting for Damian to say something.

“Alfred the cat is not going to like this,” Damian finally laughed and Jon just grinned as he leaned against their couch. Currently, Alfred and Titus were at the manor. Damian had decided against bringing them to the apartment. Titus loved the open fields of Wayne Manor too much and those two were inseparable.

He held the cat close and sniffed, looking at his boyfriend endearingly. “She’s perfect. Thank you, beloved.”

He set the cat down and she immediately started to sniff around the place cautiously.

Damian’s brow furrowed as he thought of something then.

“Wait, if the cat is my gift, then what’s been sitting under the tree? Jonathan, we said one present!” He protested, pouting a little.

Jon held his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s not a present for you! Not technically,” he grinned a little and shuffled over to the tree to get the rather large parcel that had been sitting under the tree for a few days.

Damian frowned with curiosity and moved over to sit next to him. He looked up at Jon and got a nod in encouragement before he ripped at the paper.

Inside was a brand new cat box, a bag of high-end dry cat food, a soft lavender collar with a bow, two matching silver bowls for food and water, and a few toys.

“There’s a box of cat litter in my closet. It didn’t exactly fit. I think I thought of everything? We can always pick up more stuff,” Jon explained shyly, rubbing at the back of his neck. It was quite the habit of his, particularly when he was trying to please Damian and he wasn’t sure if it was working.

Damian allowed a soft smile to cross over his face as he looked at the assembly.

“I think it should do for her first night, at the very least.” He glanced up at his boyfriend with a soft look. “Thank you, beloved. Now I fear my gift might pale in comparison.” He hid his flush by turning slightly and grabbing the parcel from under the tree, handing it to Jon.

“Anything you got for me is perfect, Dames,” Jon reassured him as he started to open the gift.

Damian had stressed for weeks about what to get Jon for their first Christmas as a couple. After much counseling from his most trusted allies, he’d decided on what currently sat in Jon’s hand.

It was a scrapbook, pages full of pictures and decorations. The first page was of them as young children, and the scrapbook went on in time, a snapshot of different parts of their lives. Of their friendship.

The last page was the most recent. It was a decidedly romantic and hopeful theme, to represent the exciting change that their relationship had undergone recently.

A simple selfie that Jon had snapped of him kissing Damian’s cheek, smiling against his skin. Damian had been caught off guard, had his eyes shut and his face adorably scrunched, and one of the widest smiles he’d ever been caught with in a photograph. Damian had secretly loved that picture, though he’d complained at the time.

Damian wrung his hands nervously as Jon went through the pages, his hands turning them lovingly and an intense look in his blue eyes.

“It’s too sentimental, I knew it,” Damian blurted. “Kathy helped me pick out the photographs--”

“Damian… this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. I love it, babe. It’s perfect.” Jon reached out and took Damian’s hand in his. He flipped back to one of the earlier pages and laughed.

“Rao, where did you find this one! That was ages ago,” Jon laughed, pointing to one where they were pulling funny faces in their school uniforms. Damian 13 and Jon 10, their golden Super Sons days.

“I received a lot of help from Kathy, as I mentioned.” Damian couldn’t help but smile brighter as he looked through the pictures again.

Some were of their young, young days. Then there were others that bled into teenage years. Recent ones of them moving in together. It was a perfect little summary of their lives together, a testament to their friendship and the trust they’d earned.

Jon gently closed the book after staring at that last page for a long moment, a happy grin on his face. He hugged the thing to his chest, looking absolutely besotted.

“Best Christmas ever,” he told Damian before leaning over to plant a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

Task 3 was a success in Damian’s book. He felt relief wash over him at that realization.

They were interrupted by a meow and they looked over to see their new family member peering at them.

“Oh, sorry, little girl! You’re probably hungry, thirsty, needing a box!” Jon exclaimed.

They got up and set everything up for the cat while Damian thought of names. Jon did his best to help, but left the decision ultimately up to Damian.

“Fluffy?” That got a look of disdain. “Okay, okay, too obvious. Hmm…”

Damian stared at the gray tabby and finally settled on something.

“Perhaps… Athena. It’s dignified.” Damian smiled at their new member of the family and she meowed up at him as if to say she approved.

Jon hummed and leaned close to his boyfriend once he set up the bowls in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around Damian’s waist. “Fit for a goddess,” Jon answered playfully.

As they settled in for another lazy day, Damian couldn’t help but feel the warmth that surrounded them and their home. The holiday had been everything they’d both hoped for. And more.

Damian felt his heart surge with that strong feeling of love when Jon instinctively reached for his hand as they settled on the couch.

Somehow he knew that this was their first Christmas together of many to come.


End file.
